


no place like you

by sultrygoblin



Category: 40 Year-Old Virgin (2005)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Marijuana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25212601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrygoblin/pseuds/sultrygoblin
Summary: one shot - the life of a weed dealer can be incredibly solitary. thankfully david’s around to keep that from being a problem.
Relationships: David/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	no place like you

**Author's Note:**

> sequel? i dont have one planned but if there’s interest...reader has piercings...

It was the longest he'd ever spent with you, smoking bowl after bowl in your bong, playing video games seated comfortably at the end of your bed. You'd even ordered a pizza, he was impressed with how quickly you'd inhaled you slices, while they watched St. Elmo's Fire, which you had already planned on watching and made it very clear to David you still would. Somewhere along the way, you both had passed out and he woke up in the pitch black of your room. The TV had a timer, he knew because he'd spent 10 minutes selling it to you and almost an hour pretending to if only to spend a little more time with you, which meant at minimum 4 hours had gone by. He knew he should just get up and go, that's what friends did when they woke up at the other house. And if he were Cal or Jay that's probably exactly what he'd do. Except Cal and Jay didn't go into the corner store _every day_ just to buy a soda and chat, they didn't stop by to get your lunch order if he was going out, hell, they didn't even know where you lived. No, David did all those things and more. David was laying next to you, in the dark, on a bed. Holding your hand. Which had only just now come to his attention. Right between you, just holding hands and he liked it. He liked that it was dumb and innocent, he liked being anxious about what was going on, if only because it meant he liked you and you just might like him back.

He'd decided that morning he was going to do something about it. It'd been over two years since Amy, the celibacy had done him good, he couldn't deny that. It was the only reason he'd even figured out he had feelings for you. Somewhere between sharing lunch breaks and you getting invited to a few guys nights, he'd developed all those fun feelings of romance he was starting to become convinced he wouldn't feel again. That's why he hadn't been bothered when he asked for a dub and you said you’d have to swing by your place since you'd sold out for the day. Why he'd hung out when you offered a free bowl of the good stuff, excitedly listened when you showed off your new copy of Quake 4, and happily played much too long while you kicked his ass. He'd offered to buy pizza knowing full well stoned you would be unable to turn down the free Italian delight. And it was exactly why he'd put up with his least favorite John Hughes movie.

“We're holding hands,” your quiet voice suddenly came from the dark.

He definitely jumped, maybe not a lot, but it clearly shook the bed, “Yeah. Yeah, I noticed that.”

Both of you laughed awkwardly. He didn't know what to do next, not exactly, he just knew that when you started to pull your hand away he didn't want you to, he rolled slightly, moving his hands carefully to find you face in the dark. Your hand stopped when his fingers made contact with your cheek. There was really only one thing left to do in the position you were in, wasn't there? He moved his thumb carefully along your jaw, till he made contact with your lips. They were soft, dry, and chapped from a combination of cottonmouth and sleep, but still soft. He kissed you, nothing intense, just pressing his lips to yours hard enough to be considered a kiss but soft enough to make it clear he wasn't asking for anything else.

He could feel you smile against his lips and he couldn't help one of his own, parting slowly from you even if he _really_ didn't want to, “Was that okay?”

He could feel you nod, “Very,” but it was barely a sound, you cleared your throat softly, “Very okay.”

“Good.”

He did it again and again, your hand threaded through the hair on the back of his head but other than that neither of you moved, didn't press on. He was going to do this right. Like Andy and Trish. He honestly could've spent all night there if his phone hadn't rang and lit up the room, blinding both of you and successfully breaking the mood. He grabbed it from the nightstand with what could only be described as a growl and you sat up on the edge of the bed while turning on the side lamp.

“What?” watching lyou rise to your feet.

“ _Dude, you're late,”_ Came Cal's voice, “ _And you have the weed_.”

“Shit, dude,” hopping to his feet, finally able to see the wall clock; 11:17, “I'm on my way. 10 minutes.”

“ _You better be_ ,” and he hung up.

You turned to him, “You late for the douche bag convention?” grabbing a joint with your other hand and holding it between your lips.

“Shut up,” he laughed, sliding on his flip flops and accepting the now lit outstretched joint, “It's poker.”

“You know, I bet I make more 'cause of your guys' poker nights than any of you do individually,” feeling your smile grow when he seemed to consider it before nodding in agreement, “You should, um, you should text me,” taking the joint back and puffing on it deeply, finishing your sentence with held breath, “If you wanna hang out after or like,” exhaling a large cloud of smoke, “Or some other time.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. I'll text you or call, even,” exhaling as he headed towards the front door.

You followed behind him to lock the door, leaving the weed in the ashtray, “I'd like that,” stopping when he did.

He turned to look at you, it was much more intimidating with you looking at him and that tank top squeezing in all the right places, “Thanks, for inviting me in.”

“No, _thank you_ ,” pushing his shoulder, “You gonna kiss me goodbye or what?”

He rolled his eyes, but the smile never left his face, “One day you're gonna learn to shut your mouth.”

“Maybe o-”

He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one a little harder, a little more wanting, which you seemed to have no problem with as you respond with the same amount of force. Maybe a little more, but that also could have been you stabilizing yourself against the sudden romantic onslaught. This time it was you who pulled away, pushing on his chest.

“Go, go or you'll never make it,” your voice somewhat overdramatic but it was still the truth.

“I'll call you,” he promised, stepping out onto the small front porch, “I'm gonna.”

You pushed his chest again, a little harder this time, “I believe you. Now go or Cal's gonna bet you something super gross for being late,” you grabbed a ziplock bag from the bowl where you kept your keys and wallet, “And don't forget this. Go.”

He rushed down the steps, “I'm gonna call you,” he shouted one more time.

Laughing, you closed the door, returning happily to your joint, if a bit saddened by David's leaving.

You like him. You'd liked him a long time, pretty much since the moment you'd met him, so at least a year and a half. Just close enough after Amy for his hurt to be fresh, you didn't make a move. Then a year went by, he'd just obsessed. Which should've been a red flag, but you'd never been great at keeping an eye out for those when the other option was an attractive, funny guy. After everything that had happened with Andy, from what little you'd been a part of and the rest you'd heard about, he'd changed. The celibacy thing had definitely been good for him, you kept your distance again, wanting to be supportive of your friend, of someone you cared about. And then you'd gotten here. Out of all the guys, you'd definitely been the closest to him since the beginning, if only because he seemed to remember that you were indeed a girl and that a dirty mind did not change that fact. He complimented you, he bought you lunch.

And in all honesty, you still had some weed in your bag to sell but you couldn't help but see what would happen if he came up. He'd been talking about breaking his fast, as it were, and you couldn't help but be a little hopeful at the thought. And it had gone your way, at least, it seemed that way. You hadn't planned on falling asleep or the room being so dark, but somehow it had worked out in your favor. He kissed you. Twice. And he was going to call you. It wasn't exactly like he could avoid you, he could even stop by and see you the next day, but something about him promising to call you seemed more meaningful and made you feel giddy.

“Fuck,” you huffed, stubbing out the roach as you sat heavily on the edge of your bed, “I do not miss him already,” but you did.

You threw on Jurassic Park, changing into your pajamas and doing all the night stuff you should've done earlier, even if you weren't going to fall asleep quite yet. You were sitting cross-legged on the bed, entranced by the screen with a beer in one hand and a slice of room temperature pizza in the other when your cell phone rang. You swallowed the bite currently in your mouth down quickly, flipping it open and pressed the green button.

“Hello,” trying to sound as casual as you could, the T-Rex shrieking in the background did not help.

“Are you watching Jurassic Park without me?” came David's voice suddenly.

“You left. I needed the dinosaurs to mend my broken heart,” taking a long sip from the bottle.

He laughed, “Poker's over early,” you glanced at the clock, he'd left just a little over an hour ago, “Apparently, all the wives got together and decided to drag their husbands home.”

“Cal?” pausing the movie.

“Apparently he's gonna grab a drink with that new salesgirl.”

“Huh,” trying to hold back your laughter but unable to keep the grin from splitting your face, thank god you were on the phone, “Guess that leaves you stag.”

“Yeah, yeah I guess it does,” there was a long beat, “You just gonna watch movies?”

“David,” finally letting the laugh loose, “If you wanna come over, just ask.”

“I do but,” another beat, “I shouldn't. I wanna...I wanna do this right.”

Laying back on the bed you hummed, “I like that. I mean, I like that you like me enough to wanna do that.”

“Of course I do. Are you crazy?” laughing, you could hear the sound of traffic in the background, he must've pulled out into the street.

“Well, maybe. But that's a whole other conversation,” setting the empty bottle on the nightstand and scooting back against your pillows.

“Let's have that conversation then.”

You did. You talked about your exes, his exes, Amy, in particular. He definitely hadn't been proud of his actions and you told a couple stories that made it clear that you completely understood how easy it was just to go absolutely berserk about something. By 4 am you couldn't stop yourself from yawning and being happy you worked the closing shift but disappointed that soon you'd have to get off the phone.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed, no doubt finally looking at the clock, “I gotta be up in 6 hours.”

“7 for me,” curling yourself tightly against the pillows and pushing your blankets down with your feet, “We should probably hang up.”

“Probably,” you could hear him sigh, the same disappointment you felt, “How about we go to lunch tomorrow? I'll take my lunch late or something.”

“Yeah,” laying yourself in the bed and pulling the blankets over you, “I'll stop in at 4?”

"Cool, cool,” you pulled the lamp cord and snuggled yourself into the bed, only realizing now that your pillow still smelt kind of like him, “Sweet dreams.”

“You too. I'll see you tomorrow,” reluctantly pulling the phone from your ear and hitting the red button, happy you'd left it plugged in and only had to toss it on the nightstand.

You pulled the pillow tighter and gently drifted off to sleep.

{}

You were thankful you'd slept so long before you'd finally gone to bed, it was the only reason you were even half alive right now, coffee was helping the other half. And you'd woken up earlier than usual, wanting to look as nice as you could for you lunch with David. Which was probably a date, right? You'd forgone your hat for the first time in a decade. A little eyeliner, a little mascara, some lip gloss, signs of actual effort. People at work had definitely noticed the change, which you had mixed feelings about but kept you distracted from the knot in your stomach as 4 approached.

You really like David and it was honestly the longest you'd ever been friends with a guy before going out with him. You'd talked for hours last night, but this was a date, in person. And the dynamic had definitely shifted from your usual lunches. By the time 4 hit, you were more worried about that than if that old pervert who lurked by the dirty magazines kept making eyes at you. Grabbing your hoodie, you threw it on and headed down the walk to the entrance of Smart-Tech. Stepping in the door didn't ease your knots, in fact, the confused look Cal was giving you as you walked by him with nothing more than a smile wave and hello made it worse. Watching Jay scamper over to whisper in his friend's ear just pilled it on, trying to focus on finding David when you felt absolutely like you might puke made tearing your eyes away almost impossible but somehow you managed it. He was talking with some lady who seemed much more concerned with pretending like she knew better than getting the most bang for her buck. You stepped into his view behind the woman, waving. His eyes widened a bit, darting back to the her face, and then back to you. He hurried through the conversation, waving Andy over which clearly seemed to make his annoyed and dim customer happy. 

“You did not put on make up for me?” his cheeks the barest bit red as he stopped in front of you.

You shrugged, “It is the barest minimum of makeup. I don't even think you can call it that.”

He grabbed your hand, “I think you look great,” leaning in to place a light peck on your lips.

That's when Cal and Jay broke in, lunch was no doubt going to be a bagel from the coffee place at this rate. 

“Did you two just kiss?” as if the very idea was unthinkable and trying to made Cal's brain hurt.

“Why didn't you say nothin'?” Jay had chosen a different route, punching his buddy in the bicep.

“Guys, lunch, I can't,” he began pulling you towards the door as he walked backward, looking at a fake watch and feigning disappointment at the lack of time until you'd made it outside, “I'm sorry about that.”

“To be fair, I think they just remembered that my breasts aren't for decoration when I walked in there today,” brushing it off now that the knot had disappeared.

“But they're also for decoration right?” laughing when you smacked him lightly in the same spot Jay had, “Alright. Alright. Well, we got 25 minutes I'm thinking...”

“Taco cart,” earning an earnest nod in agreement from him.

You hurried to the cart that thankfully had been cleared from the lunch rush. Him with a burrito that hung over the edges of the plate and you with the sloppiest enchiladas.

“How do you always get it all over your face?” Leaning forward with his napkin to wipe at your face, “Is that your X-Men power?”

“I'm just always so excited, food is always exciting,” pointing at him with your fork, before taking the last bite from your plate, “That's why people go eat on dates 90 percent of the time.”

“I feel like you've thought about this way too much,” gathering their plates and tossing them in the garbage, “I'll walk you back.”

It wasn't a long walk and you spent it mostly complaining about how you were both too full to go back to work and it would be so boring without the other. The kind of things that took less than 5 minutes to whine about when using a 30-minute lunch break for a date. Standing outside the corner store, your manager peeked out the window, clearly timing you.

“You going to Andy and Trish's thing tonight?” he asked, pulling you towards him with your joined hands and wrapping his arms around you.

“Y'know, I totally forgot. But if you're going...” resting your arms over his shoulders.

“Would you be my date?” 

“Of course, are you crazy?” you responded with a not great impression of him from the night before.

“Seriously, shut up,” laughing as he pressed another kiss to your lips, “I'll pick you up when you get off and we'll head over.”

“Sounds good,” rolling on you toes to kiss him, “Okay, I gotta get back in there or he's gonna eat me alive. And not in the happy happy fun fun way.”

“You gotta quit this job,” you simply gave him a nod, “I'll see you soon.”

“Good,” pressing another quick kiss to his lips before pulling away from him, “You, you are distracting,” pointing at him as you walked back into the mini-mart.

He was waiting right out front just as he'd promised, having enough to go home and change from his work clothes into jeans and a t-shirt. You slid into the passenger seat with the sudden realization it was the first time you'd been in his car. There was the lightest smell of weed but the 3 air fresheners hanging from the rearview mirror did it's honest to god best to cover it. It was a little older, some burn holes from dropped joints and bowls, but it was clean. And it had a CD player.

“You touched up your make up,” he pointed out as you buckled up, shaking your head, “You wanna look nice for me,” his tone one of mocking, putting the car in drive and reaching across the console to grab your hand.

“This is a time where you should shut up,” gripping his hand back, “Is this like a dinner party thing?”

He shrugged, “I dunno. I do know there is a really good spot around the side of the house to smoke though.”

“It's like you're in my brain,” running your fingers along the top of his hand while you squeezed lightly with the other, “How'd work go after?”

“Oh god. Utter douche convention. Apparently, it's against some rule to bang the chick friend and when I told them we didn't, well, let's just say they have some theories on how easy it would be to sleep with you,” glancing at you, watching your eyes roll and your tongue stick out in disgust, “Which I'm not supposed to tell you, by the way. But you're much scarier than I could ever be,” squeezing your hand back, “Let's have fun alright.”

She nodded, “Yeah, fuck 'em.”

“Exactly! Fuck 'em!”

Walking up to the door, his arm around your waist, you knocked. Trish opened the door with a smile, glancing you over before her smile turned into a full-fledged grin and she ushered you inside. There were those weird looks from Cal and Jay again and as much as you both wanted to say fuck it as you had in the car, you lived in the real world. Each of you got a drink, saying hello to the friends of Trish's you didn't know before and saying hello to Andy who seemed the least bit fazed by the couple before him. Simply congratulating you and telling you how delicious the standing rib roast was going to be. 

“So what's this I hear about me being easy?” you asked, sidling up to the guys with your same smirk as always.

“Are you serious man? Come on!” Jay said, glaring at his friend.

“You guys can't seriously be mad, come on,” you tried another route of conversation.

“You're changing the dynamic!” Cal exclaimed, pointing at you, “You are supposed to be a hypothetically sexual human being who helps us get chicks.”

You nodded, “And it’s a problem because he's going to talk about the sex?”

“Exactly,” Jay snapped and pointed at you.

“Seriously?” David looked at each of his friends in the eyes, “We used to get drunk and guess. At least now, we'll have some answers.”

“How disgustingly helpful of you,” but you shrugged all the same, it was indeed helpful as the idea had never occurred to you, “And I'm still hypothetically sexual because, you know, monogamy,” shooting a dirty look at their less than faithful buddy.

“I'm gonna have to get used to it,” he finally conceded after a long bout of silence. Cal nodded in agreement, “You got, ya know?”

And just like that, it was at least mostly back to normal. You were still trying to figure out PDA etiquette which so far had been limited to hand-holding or an arm around your waist, which Jay and Cal still seemed to be slightly weirded out by, even if it was relatively tame. You all loosened up with a bowl snuck in the exact secret spot David had talked about and a couple drinks. By the time you all sat down for dinner, everyone was talking, passing food back and forth. You rested your hand on his thigh as you ate, talking with a woman named Whitney about how good the wine was, he kept an arm around the back of the chair, pressed against your shoulders and back while he and Andy talked about the newest Quake, which he could now thankfully talk about from experience. By the end of the night, you were happily talking with Trish and Jill about some sort of girls day, which you only seemed to be interested in for the day drinking but he'd given you a solid A for effort, and the guys were touching base about poker next week. 

“Ya know,” Cal said, when you all began to file out and David grabbed your hoodie, “The more I see it, the more it makes sense,” squinting at the couple who looked at him expectantly, he held open your jacket for you to slip into before pulling on his own, “Bitchy and The Dick,” seeming far too proud of himself.

But you all snickered, if only because they had begun to make jokes about it. That was a good step. You thanked Trish and Andy for everything on both your behalf, before heading to the car, your cheeks head lightly buzzing from the alcohol, him nervous because this was an actual date. He hadn't been on an actual date since Amy, especially one where he was taking it slow. He opened the door for you and you slid in, buckling up quickly before flipping through his CD case. By the time he was buckled and the car was started, you had one picked and slid it in.

“That was fun,” he said, flicking on his blinker. 

“After the weird,” pressing the next button a couple times when the CD had loaded, “Trish and Andy seem really happy, don't they?” letting Don't Dream It's Over flood the car. 

He looked over at you with a look that clearly said, _really_ , before pulling into the street, “I think they did it right. Going out so much, having experiences, waiting for sex. Andy was always telling me that was the scariest part and I believe him.”

“Sex can do that, it's awesome, don't get me wrong. But it definitely complicates,” smiling at him, “You're still gonna come in and make out though, right?”

“Try and stop me,” heading towards your apartment, at some point you'd go to his but preferably when it was clean, “Do you work tomorrow?”

“Nope,” popping the p, he grinned glancing at you again, “Trying to sleep over again?”

“As long as you don't take advantage of me,” he poked, reaching over to run his hand through your hair.

You huffed melodramatically, “Fine,” starting the song over.

You spent the rest of the ride, a whopping 20 minutes, listening to the rest of the CD and radio, occasionally singing along. Mostly thinking about pretty similar things. How different this seemed to be from anything either of you had tried before, Andy had managed to unlock some sort of relationship secret and everyone seemed to be climbing on board, at least in a small way. You wait until you were married or anything, probably wouldn't even make it 20 dates... 

“What do you think about two months?” you asked as he parked in front of your complex.

He mused on it, climbing from the car, “Two months seems good. Enough time to get to know each other romantically-”

“But not so long that it gets weird and built up in your head,” stepping onto the sidewalk and watching him lock the car as he made his way up to you, “Two months from today?”

“Two months from today.”

In your apartment he went through your movies, deciding on Beetlejuice because he could never get the guys to watch it. You had disappeared into the bathroom to “get this shit off my face” and change into pajamas. He was happy he'd stopped off at home, even if it had been a bit presumptuous to assume, and grabbed a pair of his own pajama pants he changed into before getting the movie set up. He pulled back the blankets, feeling a lot like a teenager at the thought of simply making out. You stepped out of the bathroom in oversized sweatpants and a cropped tank.

“And a belly button piercing?” making himself comfortable on one side of the bed, “That's 7 now. Any more I should know about?” watching you cross the room to flick off the overhead light and leave the room bathed only by the glow of the TV.

“It's not fun if I tell you,” climbing into the bed next to him and pulling the blankets up to your hips.

That nervous feeling was back. He pressed play, wrapping an arm around you, and focusing on the start of the movie. He was just as nervous, but if he took it slow and natural so would you. Right? You turned slightly, laying your head on his shoulder and wrapping an arm over his stomach. He rested his cheek on the crown of your head, the barest bit of your shampoo hitting his nose. He pulled you a bit tighter, his hand resting on your forearm, lightly stroking the skin with his thumb. The Maitland's had just finished their meeting with the caseworker when he felt you scoot up slightly.

“Are you making a move?” he asked, pulling back a little to look you in the eye, “I've never seen you make a move before.”

“I've made plenty of moves,” glancing around the apartment as if it were obvious.

He rolled his eyes, “Come on, you know what I mean? You said you always wait for the guy to kiss you first. Which I think is a little sexist,” laughing when you poked him lightly in the side, “Did I ruin your move?”

“Why are you like this?” trying not to be distracted by his fingers now running along the back of your neck.

He shrugged, smiling softly at you, “Because I'm nervous and I think I'm gonna fuck it up.”

“No, that's why I'm like this,” your eyes flitting quickly but not unnoticeably down to his lips and then back to his eyes, “But I was gonna make a move.”

“Here, I'll close my eyes,” doing exactly as he said he would, a thing you were coming to find you really enjoyed about him. 

But it helped, you pressed forward, your lips meeting his softly before your own eyes fluttered closed. David's kisses were gentler than any you'd ever experienced, less about getting to the next step and more about savoring the moment. You should've expected that with all that romantic stuff he spouted about Amy but words were easy, especially in hindsight. This was better evidence than any that he had really meant all those things he had said. It made you a bit embarrassed but somehow extremely excited to hear Cal and Jay complain about how he talked about you. It was enough to egg you on.

Feeling your teeth tug ever so slightly on his bottom lip, was eye rollingly good and he was sure they faced the back of his head by now. He pulled you closer, feeling your leg slip ever so slightly over his, he deepened the kiss. God, he could do this for hours and hours. There was something about the ease of it, now that they were here all the pressure was gone. He could focus on how warm you were against him, sometimes you hummed low in your throat without even noticing, and you really seemed to enjoy the feeling of his hand in your hair while he stroked the skin along your spine. The first time he'd done it your leg had flown from barely on his knee to almost completely across his hips. That had definitely tested his resolve. But he kept it in check, even if it required special angling.

You kissed like that for hours, long after the movie had ended. The TV had just turned itself off when you parted, once again bathed in the same darkness that had started all this. Your mouth stretched against his hand, a quiet but vocal yawn that seemed almost too long came from you. It started a domino chain of you sending yawns back and forth, trying to kiss through it, and instead ending up in a fit of laughter that kept getting interrupted just the same by yawns.

“So, you're pretty much,” yawn, “My girlfriend now?”

You nodded against his shoulder, this yawn a bit squeakier, “I'm pretty sure.”

Both of you fumbled around in the dark for a more comfortable position for sleeping, your back to his front, his arm under a throw pillow to keep from falling asleep but you were still able to hold his hand, he held you close with an arm around your waist, you own arm over his. He pressed his nose into the soft strands of hair so close to his face, the scent was even stronger here against your pillow.

“Did your pillow smell like me?” he was tired, any moment he would be asleep but he couldn't help asking.

“Mhm,” you hummed tiredly, scooting yourself tighter against him, if that was even possible, and slightly under the comforter.

He had the slightest thought about how fast you had fallen asleep before he was deep in his own slumber. 

{}

He woke up to the smell of coffee and weed, you were sitting at a stool by the window from the living area to the kitchen, phone to your ear as you took a long hit from your pipe. He had to admit he was a little disappointed to not find you next to him when he opened his eyes but this would do just nicely to fix the wound. He climbed slowly from the bed, taking in your wide eyes as he moved to the kitchen and found a mug in the glass panned cabinets.

“'Mom,” you rolled your eyes, watching him grin at you as he grabbed the coffee pot, “Momma. I gotta go,” you hit the bowl again, trying to avoid eye contact when he leaned back against the counter, “I had someone over last- what? No, Mom. No,” pressing your hand to the side of your face in annoyance, “Sto- Mom- Sto- It's David alright. David stayed over,” he pointed at the phone, he didn't have to say it, “Yeah, that David, so I gotta go- Oh god gross, no, bye!” slamming it back on the cradle, “Don't you start!”

He shook his head, “I wasn't gonna say anything.”

“That's bullshit and we both know it,” holding the pipe out to him across the counter, “Just say it,” rolling your eyes when he leaned back against the counter.

How he managed to smoke with a grin that took up his entire face was a mystery but he managed it, “You told your mom about me,” it was a statement, not a question. 

You shrugged, taking the cashed pipe back and setting it to the side, “I told her about all you guys,” but the fact that his grin didn't budge said you were traveling down the exact road he wanted you too.

“ _That David_?” sipping his coffee, strangely enjoying watching you squirm a little bit, “You talked about me. At length.”

“So what?” gulping down the last of the coffee and climbing from the stool to drop it in the kitchen sink.

“You like me,” he basically sang, wrapping his arms around you, “You like me so much you told your mom about me.”

“Shut up,” slapping his bicep, “It's not- just- I thought you were really cute.”

He kissed you, a deep, sweet kiss that reminded you why exactly you were putting up with all this, “Let's spend the whole day together,” kiss, “Go to the park. The mall. A movie. All of it. None of it. Just...the whole day.”

“I like the sound of that.”

You did all of it. Picked up sandwiches and ate you in the park, talking just like you had on the phone the night before. You talked about your mom who lived at home with her newest boy toy and growing up an only child, which had created a fear of commitment. He talked about his perfect parents who never told him no and why it had lead to the downfall of so many relationships. You went and saw the new Batman movie at the mall, where he'd bought you a shirt you'd been eyeing no matter how much you protested. By the time you walked up to your apartment door, it was nearing 11 o'clock and you were both wiped.

“That was the best date I've ever been on. You weren't shitting around with all the lovey-dovey stuff you said you liked,” leaning against the entrance with the bag on your elbow.

He nodded, “What can I say? I'm a smart-mouthed romantic.”

They kissed, he wanted to press forward. Go inside. Go farther. But it was just those thoughts that made him pull away. You had an agreement and he intended to follow through.

“This is gonna be much harder than I thought,” you mumbled, clearly intending it to be under your breath and not taking into account his proximity.

He ran his hand up and down your arm, “Well, yeah, it's not supposed to be easy,” holding your cheek with the other hand, “But the first time we make love-” you rolled your eyes, “What?”

“I hate that phrase,” giving faux overdramatic shivers, “It's cheesy.”

“Well, what do you call it?” rubbing your arm once more.

“Sex. Banging. Doing it. Fucking. A bit of the ol' in and out. Gettin' down. Literally anything but that,” poking him lightly in the chest, “It's a small concession.”

“Fine,” it was his turn to roll his eyes, “The first time we have sex-”

“Thank you.”

He grinned, all was forgiven, “Is going to be magical because we did this.”

“You know out of all those guys, you make the most sense,” gripping the collar of his t-shirt lightly, “Now kiss me.”

“As my lady commands.”


End file.
